


Looks Good on You

by IronSpoon (OddColor)



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Past Relationship(s), Slow Burn, Slow Romance, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 02:45:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15620802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OddColor/pseuds/IronSpoon
Summary: “Wow. You look like shit.”Letting out a huge sigh as you turn to face the direction of the insult, you’re not at all surprised to find Clint sitting on the counter with a bowl of cereal.“Don’t you have your own food to eat? In your own kitchen?”“It’s not justyourkitchen.”You continue towards to bathroom and say, “No, but you seem to take special pride in annoying me.” before closing the door behind you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> On hiatus

“-looks good on you.”  
You didn’t even turn to face him, knowing there was a smart ass look waiting when you did.  
“What?!” you ask.  
“The blood,” he repeated, “it really pulls your whole ‘look’ together.”  
Wiping the palm of your hand on the already stained fabric covering your thigh, you finally glanced over at him. Yep, there it was. That look.  
“Not now, Clint.”  
“I’m just saying,” he went on, “it’s your color.”  
“You’re never ‘just saying’. You keep saying. Or you’re implying something.”  
He shrugged. “True.”  
The rest of the team should all be finishing up their parts of the mission. You could almost hear the bed calling your name. But right now you tried to wrap up the newly discovered slash on your hand.  
As you tore off a strip of your shirt, you could feel the smirk growing on Clint’s face.  
“Do not.” You practically snarl, trying to keep his comments to a minimum. “Do not say a word. Just keep it to yourself for once in your life.”  
“When is that ever fun? You know, if you roll your eyes and harder th-”  
With a large splintering crack, the door to the room was thrown open.  
“All done here?” Thank goodness for Stark’s timing. Not that you were in any mood for _his_ attitude either, but at least this meant you were heading home.

Back at the compound, you can’t help but head straight for your room. Sleep overcomes you no sooner than your head hits your pillow.

When you finally wake up, you curse yourself for at least not changing out of the grime and blood covered suit. Not sure if the ache in your joints and muscles is from the mission or from not having moved while being asleep, you figure a shower will help either way.  
Making your way to the bathroom, you don’t bother to notice if anyone else is around until someone calls to you, “Wow. You look like shit.”  
Letting out a huge sigh as you turn to face the direction of the insult, you’re not at all surprised to find Clint sitting on the counter with a bowl of cereal.  
“Don’t you have your own food to eat? In your own kitchen?”  
“It’s not just _your_ kitchen.”  
You continue towards to bathroom and say, “No, but you seem to take special pride in annoying me.” before closing the door behind you.  
“It’s because I love you so much,” you hear him tease through the door.

When you get out of the shower, Clint’s gone. He even managed to clean up after himself. But, of course, he didn’t leave the place completely the way he found it.  
A small piece of paper was sitting on the countertop where he had been eating.

  
_You’re out of cereal._  
_-Barton_  


You ball up the scribbled note and toss it into the trash bin at the end of the counter, noticing the cereal box in the trash. He had actually managed to eat the one type of cereal that was yours and no one else here enjoyed. Perfect.

_I should go and take all of his coffee._ You think to yourself, before giving up the idea.  
Not worth your energy, or time, to act like a child. To act like him. Besides, someone who shares a kitchen with him might actually appreciate you _not_ doing that. Not that he had any respect for _your_ roommates. Or maybe he did. You glance back at the trash bin. Maybe he knows you better than you thought.


	2. Chapter 2

 

With dinner-time approaching, now’s your chance to track Clint down. You manage to find him in one of the common areas, sitting on the back of a couch.  
“Some of us don’t appreciate you digging your feet into the cushions like that,” you call to him.  
“By ‘some of us’ you mean…?” he responds, without even looking in your direction.  
With a dramatic plop, you sit next to where he has his feet planted.  
“Did you decide where you’re taking me?” you ask, looking up at him.  
“I beg your pardon?”  
“Dinner. You owe me for eating all of my breakfast.”  
The confusion on his face quickly turned into a look of amusement.  
Crap. You might not have thought this out clearly.  
“I do?” he replied, a smirk forming on that smug face of his.  
You didn’t have time to start backpedalling your way out of this before he responded again.  
“Oh, right! Reservations are at 7. Might want to get ready.”  
Now it was your turn to look confused, as you tried to work out whether he was joking or not.  
He hopped off the couch, saying, “You’ll need to change.”  
Your eyes widen as it hits you.  
“You son of a bitch. You planned this!” you practically yell.  
“Wasting time. Go change.”  
As much as you want to keep shouting at him, he’s already strutting away, apparently to get ready for dinner.

 

“I hate you, you know that?” you say, eyeing over the menu.  
“No you don’t.”  
“This doesn’t really seem like your type of… _venue_ , Clint.”  
“It’s not. But I knew you’d be less likely to stand me up at a place like this.” he smiled back at you.  
With pursed lips, you glare at him, bitter about being tricked.  
“You didn’t have to,” he says, almost apologetic.  
Laying your hand over his, you smile, “You of all people should know you can’t make me do anything that I really don’t want to.”  
“Hope that’s true.” And there’s that look again. _Shit._

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

When you returned to the compound that night after dinner, Clint walked with you to the common area near your room. When he kissed your cheek, turned around, and started to walk away, part of you wanted to reach for his arm. To pull him back to you and into your room. But somehow you figured that was _also_ part of his plan. Another part of his game from earlier, so you let him continue on his way.  
Clint knew what he was doing, what he was doing to you, and that infuriated you.  
Not having control over your emotions was bad enough, but when someone _else_ had any sort of say in those same emotions… You didn’t like that one bit.

Too caught up in watching Clint leave, and cursing yourself for being disappointed that he was in fact leaving, you didn’t notice Wanda come in.  
“You look nice. Special occasion?” she asked.  
“I was outsmarted,” you say with a sigh, “ ‘night Wanda.” 

As you get ready for bed, you remember that you’ve agreed to meet Clint after you were done in the workshop.  
You can’t help but notice how your heart rate suddenly increased at the thought.

 

 

 

In the workshop, you tinkered with a few of your prototype tips. Figuring you’d have Stark take a final look at them before taking the parts onto the practice field, you set them down and start cleaning up your work desk.  
While you were excited to have Clint try these arrows out, you also didn’t want anything to unexpectedly go wrong. Again. Not that anyone had actually gotten hurt the last time, but you really didn’t want to take any chances and press your luck. 

 

You had already started for the door when you remembered to turn back and grab the case of _less_ -dangerous arrow parts that you were taking with you that day.  
While these sort of arrows weren’t really your thing, preferring standard and the occasional exploding one over nets and messes, you did really enjoy making and fine tuning them.  
Clint meets you in the hall and just as you’re handing him the case he asks, “Indoor or outdoors?”  
“All indoor approved. I think,” you joke, giving him a nudge with your elbow. “You didn’t forget mine did you?”  
“Got it right here.” He pulls the bag that you store your own bow in over his head and off his shoulder, tossing it towards you as the two of you make your way to the indoor range.

 

After trying out the arrows you brought along, Clint helps you with your form, which admittedly needs work.  
“I should have Kate come in and help you work on that,” he suggests, packing everything away.  
Fortunately you had your back to him, as you weren’t sure that you would have been able to correct the look of annoyance on your face quick enough.  
“Or you could. No reason to bother her,” you respond. Thankfully, unlike your face, your voice didn’t betray you when you replied.  
Clint shrugged.  
“New eyes might be good.”


	4. Too Early for This

An alert on your phone caused the screen to light up, illuminating the dark room. That particular tone accompanying the notification and bright light told you it was Avengers related. Letting out a groan, you figured this was either urgent having been sent in the middle of the night, or simply an annoyance that could have waited until morning. Squinting at the screen, you immediately wished it had been the latter. 

Dragging yourself out of bed, you grab your pants from the floor and yank them on. Deciding on a clean shirt, you blindly grab a t-shirt from the closet as you run your fingers through your hair in a half-assed attempt to make it presentable.

As you open the door, you check over the message once more. Not having much to go, other than needing to get to the conference room asap, your not-yet-functioning brain had been too focused on getting out the door, causing you to forget your shoes.  
You think about turning around until you hear another door open and close, and head towards the elevator. An extra pair of shoes and a change of clothes were waiting for you on the quinjet if you needed them, no use making the others wait on you. 

When you get to the conference room, you spot the coffee and start to make your way over to it, but you don’t get too far before Clint catches your eye and holds up a cup to you. He nods at the chair next to him and you sit down as you mumble a “Thanks” and start on the coffee.   
Most of the team is there by the time you finish your first cup and when you sit back down from getting both yourself and Clint a refill, Stark finally walks in.

 

Turns out, you would be needing those shoes. While you had headed out faster than he did, it didn’t take long for Clint to catch up to you.

“Some of us don’t appreciate you walking around barefoot,” he jests, throwing your previous words back at you.

“Maybe,” you reply, “but let me guess. You’re not one of those ‘people’, are you?”  
When that smile began forming at the corner of his lips, you knew that you had just set yourself up. Again.

“Course not. I’d enjoy seeing more than just your feet bare.”  
You only manage an unamused “Mmm hmm” and try to ignore the flip your stomach just did.   
“Did that count as a coffee date?”

“Hardly,” you sigh. It was still too early for this.

“Hmm. Let’s get someone else’s opinion.” He throws his arm around you, pulling you into his side as the two of you keep walking towards the quinjet. Once inside he continues, “Hey Nat. Two people have coffee together. Coffee date. Right?”

“Yeah, sure.” Romanoff doesn’t look away from what she’s doing to respond.

You push away from his grasp, settling into a seat. “He failed to mention this supposed ‘date’ took place during the briefing just then.”

Romanoff turns around to roll her eyes at Clint and say, “Not a date.” But he just shrugs.


	5. Chapter 5

While the mission was indeed an urgent one, it wasn’t particularly difficult or even time consuming, just taking up that day. Heading back to the compound late that night, you didn’t even attempt to stay awake during the flight home. It helped that you had someone to rest your head on, and you weighed the consequences of the fact that the “someone” just happened to be Clint.  
Once you had landed, he gently wiggled his shoulder to wake you, and to your surprise, without comment.  
Nearing your room, you hadn’t even realized that the body just steps behind you didn’t make his usual departure towards the side of the compound that housed his room. You reach out to turn the handle on your door, but paused before pushing it open.  
“Not here to raid the fridge?” you ask without turning around.  
“Wasn’t planning on it.”  
You close your eyes and take a deep breath.  
“I can go,” he whispered, sounding almost hurt.  
Not saying anything, you open the door and walk inside. When Clint didn’t immediately follow, that sinking feeling in your gut gave you your answer.  
“Come on, then.”  
The click of the door latching closed was enough to make your heart beat faster. You were already working your way out of your clothes and slowly moving to your bed, all without turning around to face the eyes you could feel wandering over you.  
“I’m exhausted, so if you’re just going to stand there, you’re going to end up watching me sleep.”  
The room was still relatively dark, with light coming in from the window giving off the only form of illumination.  
Rolling onto your bed and closing your eyes, the sound of him removing his clothing gave your body a second burst of energy. 

When the weight shifts on the bed, you couldn’t help but smile, too tired to remind yourself of all of the reasons you had for not pursuing this sooner. He leans over you, placing an arm near your head and stares down at you. 

“Yes?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow as he begins running his fingers through your hair.

“Why’d you say yes, now?”

Reaching up, you place your hands on the back of his neck and pull him into a deep kiss. Just as he moves his mouth to the crook of your neck, you tilt your head back. “Do you really want me to find a reason not to do this?”  


Even though you can’t see it, you can feel that smirk of his against your skin. Lifting his head back up to look at you, he runs a thumb over your cheek. “Just don’t want you to do something you’re gonna regret in the morning.”

“Either way, I’d regret it, I’m sure.”  


“Gee, thanks.”

You shove him off of you and over onto his back. Throwing your leg over to straddle his hips, you ask, “Do you ever shut up?”

“I didn’t say a word the whole way to your room, remember?” His hands slide up and over your thighs to your hips.

Sarcasm dripping from your voice, you exclaim, “Oh wow! Want a cookie? Or maybe a sticker?”

Fingers digging into your skin, his grip tightens. “Had something else in mind. Take you up on that cookie later, though.”

“Shut up Barton.”


	6. Chapter 6

With a notepad and pen, you sit cross legged on the ground. A few feet away, Clint is testing and analyzing your latest batch of arrows, noting anything that will need adjusted. 

As he grabs another arrow from your case, he holds it out towards you. “What’s this one again?”

“What’s it say?” you ask, without looking up from your notes.

“Mmm…” Clint flips the arrow over to get a better look at the oversized barrel on the end.  
“Says, ‘I can’t believe you actually label these!’”

At that you look up. “Your place smells like laundry and old food, doesn’t it?” Letting out a sigh, you set down your notepad. “Of course I label them.”

He holds the arrow back at you. “That, that was mean. Accurate, but mean.”

“Organization shocks you. It wasn’t mean.” You start packing up the arrows and pieces that he’s left lying around him. 

He sticks the arrow he’s been waving around back into the case as well. “I’ve already tested one of these.”

You’re walking back inside when you turn to him. “Wait. Please tell me your place doesn’t _really_ smell like that.”

“Why? Planning on stopping by?” he quipped, eyebrow quirked.

There hadn’t been a repeat of that night since, but Clint was taking every possible opportunity to use it as ammunition for addition smart-ass comments and sly remarks. 

“No. And definitely not, if it smells like that.”

“So what I’m hearing is that if my place didn’t smell, you _would_ , in fact, come by.”

In the elevator, he turns to you, leaning his shoulder against the wall. You roll your eyes, knowing he’s about to start up with something again.

“So. I was promised some baked goods.”

“What on earth are you talking about now?!” you exclaim, looking at him.

“Cookies? Remember?”

Letting out a groan, you turn back to the elevator door, shaking your head. “You are a child, Barton. You know that, right?”

The doors open and you walk out, making your way to return the arrows to your work desk. Behind you, Clint holds the doors open and shouts after you, “I’ll be by to get one later!”

You turn around to tell him off, but your words get lost when he winks just as the elevator door closes, leaving you standing alone in the hall.


	7. Chapter 7

As you’re inputting the data you had scribbled down while outside, the familiar chime on your phone lets you know that you’re needed elsewhere for something Avengers related once again. Thankfully it wasn’t the middle of the night this time. You fold up the paper that had your notes on it and slide it into your pants pocket before leaving.

 

 

After returning, you head straight to your room. Being away for the past few nights, not having a real bed to sleep in, it made you miss the comforts of your room terribly. Only a handful of people had gone on this particular mission, Clint not included, and as much as you hated to admit it to yourself, you were kind of missing him as well. Which is why you had a hard time fighting off the grin that was growing across your face when you noticed him sitting at your kitchen counter once again.

“Eating all my food again, Barton?” you ask, managing to turn that cheesy grin into a believable smirk.  
Turning to you, his eyes narrowed in on a crimson colored stain near your shoulder.  
“That your blood?” he asks, bringing his eyes back to yours, but you shrug and keep walking.  
Remembering this isn’t the first time he’s pointed out this sort of thing, and not out of concern, you feel the need to ask, “You don’t have some sort of weird kink about it, do you?”  
Without missing a beat, Clint responds, “Not about that, no.” He leaps off the stool to follow you. “I do have a few others you might be interested in.”

 

It was late morning when you threw your arm over the edge of your bed, reaching for the source of that ringing. You’re forced to squint at the screen of your phone as your eyes adjust from the dimness of the room to the sudden brightness illuminating from the device. In your exhaustion, you hadn’t realized until just now that it wasn’t even _your_ ringtone you were hearing, but one of those standard default ones. One that belonged to someone who had just never bothered to change it.  
“Clint.” You nudged him with your elbow, sitting your own phone on the bedside table.  
“Clint, get your phone.”  
With a muffled groan, Clint turned his face from the pillow and towards you, tossing his arm around your waist.  
“Ignore it,” he mumbled, pulling you closer. As if on cue, the ringing stopped and you thought about going back to sleep.  
Clint nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and said, “See? Sleep.”  
You barely had the chance to close your eyes before there was someone knocking on the bedroom door. Without saying anything, Clint rolled out of the blankets and went to open the door.   
“Think you might want to put some pants on?” you ask, unsure if he’s awake enough to realize that all of his clothes were still where he left them on the floor.  
“Just Nat,” he yawns, sleep filling his voice.  
Seconds later, you’re staring at the door in amazement.  
“How’d you know it’d be her?” you ask as you try gathering up enough clothes to cover yourself without leaving the bed.  
Clint just shrugs, grabbing his boxers off the floor and pulling them on, as Romanoff began talking to him. After no more than a few sentences, he cuts her off.  
“Alright, alright, let me get dressed.”  
With that, he finds the rest of his clothes and walks over to where you’re still sitting in bed. Reaching down he cups your chin in his hand and leans down to kiss you before leaving.


End file.
